


The Stars Are Looking Straight Down On Us

by Whovian13



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Hansol is one of those guys who offers cologne samples?, Hansol is so soft, M/M, Meet-Cute, Seungkwan is a Santa's elf, Seungkwan loves his mom btw, holiday cuteness, idk i got the idea from this one episode of friends, part-time mall job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whovian13/pseuds/Whovian13
Summary: I decided I needed to write the Verkwan I want to see in the world.Hansol works at the mall giving out samples of men's cologne. Seungkwan just started working as Santa's elf at the mall's North Pole. Hansol thinks Seungkwan is cute. Seungkwan has a rough first day.Note: Before posting the second chapter, I finally came up with a title to replace "Verkwan Christmas," so I hope that isn't too confusing!
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 23
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few more short chapters to write for this, but I wanted to get this first one up since Christmas has come and gone and we're already in the new year!
> 
> I hope people don't mind reading a belated Christmas fic with Verkwan cuteness!

Hansol decided he loved Saturdays. Not because they were his day off, because they weren't. Not because it was slow at work, because the mall was at its busiest on Saturdays. And not because the customers passing by were always more varied and interesting on the weekends, although that was certainly true.

Hansol suddenly loved Saturdays because starting today, his weekend shift placed him right next to the mall’s new “Meet Santa at the North Pole” photo station for kids. He wasn’t a particular fan of children, or of Santa, but Saturdays were Hansol’s new favorite day because he definitely _was_ a fan of Santa’s lead helper, a cute guy with gorgeous high cheekbones and a bossy attitude.

Not long after Hansol’s shift at the mall started, this beautiful man bustled into his line of sight for the first time, jingle bell-toed slippers tinkling merrily on his feet, a red-and-black plaid satchel slung over his shoulder, and one hand clutching a paper cup of coffee while the other dexterously bobby-pinned a pointy green hat onto his shiny black hair. The pouty scowl on his face was only half concealed by the coffee cup which seemed to contain the essence of life considering how desperately he gripped it and how his immaculate eyebrows rose in temporary bliss every time he took a sip.

Hansol had a perfect view of this disgruntled but adorable trek across the main foyer from his own post near the entrance of the mall's flagship department store where he stood for four hours every morning, ready to intercept unsuspecting shoppers with an offer of a sample spritz of the high-end men's cologne, _Seventeen_.

It wasn't the most dignified of part-time jobs--though he was grateful that bells and a pointy hat weren't part of his uniform--and he was fully aware that he had been hired for his sharp jawline and dazzling smile, not his intellect. But it helped him pay his college fees, and he could compose rap lyrics in his head on slow days.

Unfortunately, he had yet to speak any actual words to the cute elf. Although he had a perfect view of the North Pole's operations, he couldn't think of a good reason to cross the few meters to Santa's workshop during his shift. Anyway, the guy was too busy herding kids and subtly glaring uncooperative parents into submission for him to interrupt.

Hansol was trying to think of a way to find out this intriguing person’s name when things at the North Pole got messy. No more than thirty minutes after the elf’s arrival, an adorable but sugar-hyped toddler had suddenly turned an eerie shade of green as he looked dazedly up into Santa’s bearded face. Hansol watched in awe as the object of his admiration moved with quick determination to heroically wrest the child from Santa’s lap before the red suit got covered in vomit. He succeeded, but was unable to save his own striped leggings from such a fate, and the look on his face was a mix of sickened horror and resignation. 

Hansol observed the whole episode with fascinated appreciation as Santa’s sweet-faced helper collected himself enough to hand the little boy back to his parents before hurrying off to the restroom to clean himself up. 

He soon returned to the North Pole, but immediately went into the little hut labeled “Santa’s Workshop” while a different elf came out to take his place dealing with the kids. It was about thirty minutes later when Hansol finally learned the man’s name. 

The ambient Christmas music was abruptly cut off from the mall’s sound system as a harried voice rang out over the intercom:

"Boo Seungkwan, please come to the Information Desk--” it began, but was interrupted by quieter, distant speech.

“ _Say it’s important, dear, he asked me to come urgently,_ ” came a female voice, warm with concern.

“Yes, auntie, I understand--” the initial speaker returned, while the static sound of something covering the microphone failed to completely muffle the conversation.

“ _I have his pants here, and I brought a spare pair of underwear, just in case. Poor boy this is my baby’s first day, you know--_ ”

A loud _clunk_ from the speakers interrupted the motherly voice, followed by a ringing silence. Everyone in the atrium, from the mall staff to the restive children, turned their gaze toward the creak of the workshop door opening. The elf--Seungkwan--appeared at the threshold, face alarmingly red and mouth tight, and took slow, jingling steps down the few stairs and onto the floor. As the crowd parted for him, he walked with his head held high but his eyes staring murderously at the heavens. It wasn’t until he reached the opposite side of the atrium and disappeared down the hallway that the cheerful Christmas music finally started up again, and everyone went back to what they were doing.

As Seungkwan passed him, Hansol could see that his leggings were still wet and rumpled on the front of the thighs, though Hansol thought he looked beautiful even as he scowled in anger and embarrassment. He wanted to get Seungkwan’s attention, to give him an encouraging smile, but he was staring resolutely ahead as he walked past, and Hansol didn’t want to add to the awkwardness by calling out a stranger’s name.

Hansol passed the time while Seungkwan was away at the information desk trying to get as many customers to accept a perfume spritz as he could. He sometimes played this game when he was bored, betting himself how many sprays he could get in a thirty-minute period.

“Seventeen?” he asked passersby, giving his most charming smile and holding the bottle toward them, label facing out. Most of them shook their heads and hurried past him, which he understood. People could be weird about accepting samples, especially of a scent they weren’t familiar with.

Occasionally, someone would nod politely and hold out their wrist, and Hansol would cheer for himself internally while keeping his face a mask of cool interest. If there were ladies in the group, he might flirt a little, brighten his smile a touch or give a discreet wink. He would mention what a great holiday gift a quality cologne could make for the men in their lives. This could be a fine line to tread, however. 

As the face of _Seventeen_ , he was supposed to make the men want to be him and the women want to be with him, but he also didn’t want to cause any awkwardness in mixed groups or couples. He had come to recognize the occasional disappointed look a beautiful young woman would toss the man at her side while clearly comparing him to Hansol. Hansol always wanted to say _it’s not a fair contest ma’am, I have to wear this classy tux and have my hair done for my job._ He knew that if the ladies saw him in his tie-dye or flannel (sometimes even a combination of the two at once) and messy hair, they would be far less impressed.

He was on a roll, with three _yeses_ in a row, when he heard footsteps off to the side. He turned to get the person’s attention, with the bottle already held out and the smile in place.

“Seventeen--” He stopped abruptly when he came eye level with a pointy green hat. His gaze traveled down to see Seungkwan’s beautiful pouting face turned up to his.

“What kind of a name is _Seventeen_ , anyway?” Seungkwan grumbled, jaw thrust forward and lips pursed adorably. Hansol couldn’t stop his smile from spreading into a toothy grin as Seungkwan fisted his hands at his sides and stubbornly planted his feet.

“Is it for teenagers?” Seungkwan continued. “Do you have to be seventeen to use this cologne? Why is a grown man selling kids’ perfume?” His grumble was gaining volume and clarity by the second, and his face got even closer to Hansol’s as it turned pink with vigor.

Hansol’s smile faded a bit. As much as he loved Seungkwan’s sassiness, he was dying to see up close that sweet smile he’d only witnessed from afar. He searched his brain desperately for something to say that might cheer up the grumpy elf, but all that came out of his mouth was “Your mom seems nice.”

His jaw dropped in horror as he watched Seungkwan’s face turn really red. A chorus of light tinkling rang in his ear as the elf stamped a pointy-toed foot and raised a jingle-belled wrist to shake a slender finger right in Hansol’s face.

“My mother is an _angel_ \--” he hissed, stepping even closer. “And your perfume is stupid--” The hiss turned into a growl and the finger somehow got pointier. “And your face is pretty, and--”

He cut himself off as his cheeks turned pale. Hansol was struck dumb, torn between wanting to make clear that he was being sincere about Seungkwan’s mom, wanting to agree about the perfume, and wanting to address the whole “pretty face” comment. Before he could organize his thoughts, Seungkwan turned with a huff and stomped away, his jingling steps fading into the hum of the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to add another chapter, I'm just a slow thinker :/  
> Thanks to those who read and left kudos and comments on the first chapter! (Also I finally figured out how to change the chapter count so now it shows as a wip, yay!)

The following Saturday, Hansol resolved to find a chance to speak with Seungkwan, preferably without accidentally insulting his mother.

He waited anxiously for Seungkwan’s appearance, keeping an ear out for the telltale jingle of his shoes while still attempting to actually do his own job offering  _ Seventeen _ samples. When he finally heard the sweet music, his head turned automatically to see the gorgeous young man walking into the mall’s atrium. He was moving more slowly than last week, his hat already in place, and he seemed to be having some sort of altercation with his satchel, which was putting up quite a fight as he tried to force the zipper shut.

Hansol noticed Seungkwan was not carrying a coffee cup this morning as both hands were free to struggle with his bag, and he wondered if this was the reason the elf looked a little less energetic than last week. In any case, it gave him time to observe him a little more closely. 

Seungkwan was only a couple of inches shorter than Hansol, but with rounder features. He had nice legs, which were encased in an unfortunate pair of candy cane-striped leggings. Cute rounded calves led up to thighs that were thick but soft-looking, which disappeared beneath the scalloped edge of his loose green tunic. It was long enough to protect Seungkwan’s modesty, but short enough to emphasize the flare from his belted waist to his curved hips and butt. Hansol hurriedly continued his gaze upward to the safer territory of the flowy sleeves and velvety red collar with white pom poms at the end of each pointed petal. Seungkwan’s smooth neck and sweet face emerging from the garish costume made Hansol simultaneously regret that he had to endure this ridiculous outfit and appreciate his grace in the face of such indignity.

Seungkwan finally got his bag zipped as he reached the North Pole, and Hansol tried to stop staring and focus on his own job. It was difficult, with such an enticing distraction nearby, but he managed to pass another hour quite productively until it was time for his morning break. 

Glancing over toward the North Pole, Hansol noticed that although Seungkwan was just as warm with the kids as usual, he still wasn’t as peppy as last week, and it gave him an idea. He hurried toward the mall’s food court.

When he returned ten minutes later, he found Seungkwan sitting on the steps to Santa’s Workshop, apparently on a break of his own. His head was resting in his hands and his elbows were on his knees. He seemed to be in a daze, staring at the floor. Hansol approached him timidly, holding a paper coffee cup out in front of him.

“Seungkwan-ssi?” 

Seungkwan looked up, startled. Upon seeing Hansol, his face went from open surprise to narrow-eyed suspicion.

“How do you know my name?” he asked, his voice high-pitched and a little too loud. 

Hansol shuffled his feet, wishing he didn’t have to bring up last week’s incident. “I, um, heard it called over the loudspeaker last Sat--”

Seungkwan cut him off with a groan. “Ugh, yes, yes, okay don’t remind me.” He passed a hand over his face as if to wipe away the memory, then looked up at Hansol wearily. “So what? Are you here to assault me with more of your kiddie perfume?”

Before he could stop himself, Hansol let out a snort of laughter, which earned him a sharp glare.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, Seungkwan-ssi, you’re just so cute I couldn’t--” 

Seungkwan huffed angrily and made to stand up, and Hansol cut himself off, realizing that he was only making things worse.

“Anyway,” Hansol coughed, holding out a placating hand. 

Seungkwan still looked irritated, but he sank back onto the stairs with a heavy sigh. 

“My name is Choi Hansol, by the way, and I just thought you looked kind of tired--”

“Oh thanks, that’s so sweet. What gave it away? Was it the super attractive bags under my eyes, or the elegant way I collapsed on the stairs the first chance I got?”

Hansol could feel his facial expression morph once again into open-mouthed horror as he saw the actual hurt in Seungkwan’s eyes.

His mind was trying to get him to say that yes, attractive and elegant were perfect words to describe this man, but he knew it would just get muddled when it came out of his mouth. Instead he decided to get to the point.

“Coffee!” he blurted, shoving the cup in Seungkwan’s face. “I got you coffee.”

Seungkwan leaned back reflexively, then took a moment to eye the writing on the cup.

“That’s...nice of you,” he said slowly. “But I can’t drink that. It’s too sweet and I don’t drink lattes.” He looked up to meet Hansol’s eyes, his face softening. “But thank you anyway.”

Hansol’s face fell momentarily, but he quickly put on a hopeful smile.

“What about Americano?” He brought his other hand out from behind his back to reveal a second paper cup. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got this one black, but I put some sweeteners and creamer packets in my pocket in case you wanted to add anything.”

Seungkwan stared at the second cup, his mouth slightly ajar. “You bought me two coffees?” he asked quietly.

“Well, I didn’t know what you would prefer, so I figured I could just drink whichever one you didn’t want. Unless you want both, then of course you can have both!” he added with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm.

Seungkwan looked down with a blush. It was beautiful. “I...I like Americanos, thank you.” 

Hansol thrust his left hand further out with a grin. “Good, then I like…” He glanced at the cup in his right hand. “Whatever this is,” he finished with a chuckle. Seungkwan let out a small giggle, taking the cup and sipping daintily from it. 

“How did you order it if you don’t even know what it is?”

Hansol felt himself blush now. “I just asked for something sweet and something bitter.” He cleared his throat again. “I don’t actually drink coffee.” He took a sip of the latte and coughed quietly. “But this is...good.”

Seungkwan watched his face for a moment and then finally broke into a wide, joyful laugh.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, Hansol-ssi.” 

Hansol only had a second to appreciate hearing his name from those pouty lips before Seungkwan’s smile dropped and his face grew serious.

“But really, I can pay you for them. Let me just grab--” He made to stand up once again, but Hansol hurriedly placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“It’s fine--” He jerked his hand back when he noticed Seungkwan’s shoulders hunch in reaction. “Sorry, I just wanted...I was hoping to cheer you up, is all.”

Seungkwan relaxed and smiled timidly up at Hansol, his eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. He was lovely, angelic almost, and the look of stunned gratitude was too much for Hansol to take in that moment. Why should this actual ray of sunshine be so surprised at such a small gesture? Surely he had people falling over themselves to make him smile?

Seungkwan opened his mouth to speak, but Hansol interrupted him.

“Drink that while it’s still hot, Seungkwan-ssi. I have to get back to my...over there…” He waved a disoriented goodbye and took a couple of stumbling steps backwards, before turning and fleeing back to his post. He dropped his sickly sweet latte in a trash can as he passed, and he spent the rest of his shift focusing on mall customers and not stunning, abrasive, beautiful men in hideous elf costumes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who has been waiting for an update, I am truly sorry it took me so long. This is why I never promise an update schedule, since I am a slow and unmotivated writer. :/ But I hope you like this chapter, and I will do my best to finish the last chapter in a reasonable length of time! <3

When Hansol crossed the mall’s food court on his way to begin his shift the following Saturday, he almost didn’t recognize Seungkwan sitting alone at one of the tables. He had been resigned to arriving almost an hour before him and spending the time not-so-patiently waiting for the adorable elf to arrive.

Today, however, Seungkwan had clearly been there for some time, and he was not dressed as an elf (though he was still absolutely adorable). He was wearing street clothes, which in this case included a soft-looking t-shirt under a large, open flannel button-up. He was surrounded by notebooks and folders and was staring threateningly at his laptop screen, his mouth moving silently.

Hansol stopped abruptly and looked at his watch. He had a few minutes before he needed to be at his post, and he was already dressed in his work tux, so he figured there was time to stop and chat.

“Seungkwan-ssi!” he called cheerily as he wound his way among the scattered dining tables. “Good morning!”

There was a brief pause before Seungkwan seemed to register hearing his name, and then he looked up with a frustrated expression, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips pursed in a pout. When his eyes landed on Hansol, his face relaxed substantially, and Hansol grinned broadly in response. 

“You’re here early,” Hansol continued, then glanced at the clutter surrounding Seungkwan and grimaced sympathetically. “What are you working on?”

Seungkwan leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “Just some music composition homework.” He crossed his arms. “Which is disrespectful by the way, and unfair and mean and full of malice!” His voice grew in volume until he was almost shouting in the empty food court, but then he pressed his lips tightly together in a sheepish expression. “It’s not my favorite class, obviously.”

Hansol chuckled, thinking how cute Seungkwan was when he got riled up, and also that the blue of his plaid shirt looked lovely against his pale complexion and he wished he could touch the t-shirt to see if it was as soft as it looked (and not at all to feel Seungkwan’s chest or collar bones or anything else). 

Not wanting to insult Seungkwan--again--he covered his laugh with a cough and took a seat next to him at the table. “Composition?” he asked, peeking at the computer screen, which displayed a Google doc containing various rhymes mostly composed of curse words and insults. “I took my first composition class last year. It’s my major, actually.” He couldn’t stop smiling as intriguing questions filled his head.  _ Seungkwan was a musician? Did they go to the same school? Would he be willing to listen to some of Hansol’s rap lyrics? What if Hansol wrote a song just for Seungkwan, would that be too much? Of course that would be too much shut up brain... _

Meanwhile, Seungkwan was eyeing him suspiciously, as if he had just admitted to a fondness for torture.

“You do this all the time? You  _ chose _ this as a major?” His voice was rising again, and Hansol laughed, not bothering to hide it this time. 

“Why, what’s your major? Do you go to Hanyang? I’m in my second year.”

Seungkwan’s shoulders dropped into a more relaxed posture, and he started shuffling his notebooks around fussily.

“I’m a vocal music major. And yes, but I’m in third year, so you’re going to have to stop laughing at me so much since I’m your senior!” He ended with a glare that Hansol was pretty sure was playful. Hansol rose from his seat to bow exaggeratedly to Seungkwan.

“Yes, hyung, I promise, you have my utmost respect, Seungkwan-hyung!”

Seungkwan laughed and swatted at his shoulder until he sat down again. Then he got quiet, tilting his head down and only looking up at Hansol through his eyelashes.

“Actually...when’s your birthday?” he asked, scrunching his nose guiltily. “I’m very young in my class, so I might not be your hyung.”

“February 18, 1998,” Hansol answered quickly.

“Ah!” Seungkwan smiled triumphantly, which Hansol thought was just lovely. “January 16, I  _ am _ technically older!”

Hansol smiled, completely endeared, as he rose from his chair. “Well, then, Seungkwan-hyung...I mean, Seungkwan-sunbaenim,” he stammered dramatically as he bowed once again. Seungkwan giggled and shoved at Hansol’s shoulder with an eye roll. “My shift is about to start, but let me know if you want help with your  _ malicious _ homework, and I’d be happy to give you a hand.”

Seungkwan looked back at his computer screen with a groan, but he turned again to smile and wave cutely as Hansol pushed in his chair.

“Be careful what you promise, I may just take you up on that!” His voice was clearly meant to sound ominous, but Hansol bent down to his level and looked him seriously in the eyes.

“I hope you do,” he said quietly, then straightened up and strode away. His heart was beating way too fast, and it was incredibly difficult not to look back and see Seungkwan’s reaction, but he was going for a cool exit, so he kept his gaze forward.

* * *

Today, Hansol decided to take his break a little later than usual. He kept an eye out--nonchalantly of course--to see when Seungkwan’s replacement came to relieve him for his own break, and then strolled casually over to the far side of Santa’s workshop, where Seungkwan was leaning against the wall.

“How did your composition assignment turn out?” he asked, and Seungkwan looked up with a sigh.

“It didn’t. I finished working on the melody weeks ago, but my instructor wants lyrics with this one.  _ Lyrics _ ! Am I an author? Am I a poet?” His voice was getting louder and louder, and his nose scrunched up adorably. “The answer, in case you were wondering, is NO! I am a singer.” He huffed. “A vocalist. I  _ interpret _ songs. I do not  _ write _ them. I only took this class as a department elective, it’s not even required for my major. This assignment is worth thirty percent of my grade, and I can’t believe this stupid class is going to bring down my GPA. I shouldn’t have taken it, I can’t do this!”

As Seungkwan got more agitated, Hansol’s heart clenched in his chest. He gently placed a hand on Seungkwan’s arm. “It’s okay, don’t say that. I’m sure you can do it!” When Seungkwan gave him a skeptical side-eye, he continued warmly, “I was serious about helping you. I love writing lyrics.” He dropped his hand to fiddle with his own fingers. “My focus is rap, so lyrics are kind of my thing, and rhythm.” He didn’t want to sound like he was bragging, but he wanted Seungkwan to accept his help. “I mean, I can sing, but I’m sure I’m not as good as you!” A little flattery couldn’t hurt either.

Seungkwan smiled demurely. “You haven’t even heard me sing,” he mumbled, but he looked pleased all the same. Hansol sighed, relieved to see Seungkwan’s mood shift.

“When is your assignment due?” he asked, and Seungkwan deflated a little.

“Two weeks.” His pout was adorable, but Hansol hated to see him so bummed out. “I’ve had all semester to work on it, and I never put assignments off this long. I got the melody worked out!” he repeated hurriedly, as if Hansol would judge him for procrastination.

“Oh, that’s plenty of time,” Hansol replied encouragingly. “I work best under pressure anyway.” Which was a diplomatic way of confessing that he himself was a procrastinating king. “Are you free after your shift today?” 

“Yes, I was planning on doing some more homework when I’m done here. My mom had to borrow my car today, and she won’t be able to pick me up until later.” He paused, looking concerned. “But don’t you get done with your shift before me? I don’t get off until 2 p.m.”

Hansol shrugged, hoping he appeared natural and not at all eager when he said, “That’s okay, it’s only an hour difference. I don’t mind waiting.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t have any plans right after my shift.”

Seungkwan smiled up at him, eyes twinkling as if Hansol had just offered him the world. “Are you sure, Hansol-ah? It’s not too much trouble?”

Looking into those shining eyes, Hansol knew he was truly fucked. What wouldn’t he do just to see that angelic expression directed at him as often as possible?

His voice was rough when he answered, “No trouble at all.”

* * *

That afternoon, Hansol was seated at a table with a cup of tea for himself and a tall Americano waiting for Seungkwan. He was listening to music on his earbuds, so he didn’t hear Seungkwan approach from behind him, and he jumped with a quiet gasp when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Is that for me?” Seungkwan asked when Hansol removed the earbuds and turned in his chair. He was chuckling as he looked down at Hansol, so maybe his gasp hadn’t been that quiet after all.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, unnecessarily nudging the coffee cup a few inches to the side. He pulled out the chair next to him and gestured for Seungkwan to take a seat. “You know, in case you were thirsty.” 

As Seungkwan sat down, Hansol resolved to stop talking until he had something intelligent to say. Seungkwan immediately pulled out his laptop and notebook.

“Do you want to hear the melody to get started?” he asked, and Hansol nodded, unplugging his earbuds from his phone and connecting them to Seungkwan’s computer.

The song was beautiful, with a romantic melody and simple but eloquent instrumentation. Hansol could only imagine it being sung in Seungkwan’s sweet voice. He was so expressive while simply speaking that Hansol knew he would love hearing him sing.

“Okay,” he began, taking the buds out of his ears and turning to face Seungkwan. He was planning on launching right into a discussion of theme and motifs, but then he saw the look on Seungkwan’s face. It was half hopeful and half uncertain, and Hansol rushed to erase the doubt. 

“That was awesome!” he said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. Seungkwan smiled timidly but still looked skeptical. “Really,” Hansol pressed, leaning closer to look intently into his eyes. They each had a hand resting on the table, and Hansol wanted to touch, wanted to cover Seungkwan’s smaller hand with his own. To offer reassurance, but also to feel if the pale skin was as soft as he imagined and to trace the slender fingers that looked so delicate. He settled for sliding just a little closer, afraid of making Seungkwan uncomfortable.

“I really liked it,” he said sincerely. “You’ve done a great job, and I can’t wait to get working on the lyrics.” He smiled softly, and Seungkwan answered with a bright grin.

“Thank you!” Seungkwan exclaimed. He crossed the last few inches and clasped Hansol’s hand tightly. “I’ve only played it for my mom, and she’s obviously a biased judge.” He laughed, his eyes twinkling again, while Hansol thought ruefully to himself,  _ So am I _ .

* * *

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Seungkwan protested, staring at Hansol’s phone as if the lyrics on it had personally offended him. “My English isn’t the best, but even I know that’s not how the phrase is supposed to go.”

Hansol snorted quietly. He wasn’t offended that Seungkwan was pointing out the strangeness of his lyrics; it was nothing less than he had expected. “Try reading it out loud,” he said gently. Seungkwan glanced at him with a pout before sighing and looking back at the phone.

“Flip down your frown...upside,” he read aloud, and Hansol would still be able to hear the judgment in his voice, even if he couldn’t see the raised eyebrows and scrunched up nose.

Hansol tried to infuse his own amused expression with at least a little indignation, but it was difficult when Seungkwan looked so cute.

“I get it, it’s weird,” he conceded, “but now listen to the track.” Once Seungkwan had his earbuds in, Hansol hit play at the second verse and carefully watched his expression. His face went from confusion to relaxed enjoyment, to an outright giggle.

“That’s...so silly,” he said unevenly as another chuckle escaped. Hansol laughed with him and grinned, satisfied.

“But it made you smile,” he said smugly, “which was the whole point of that line.”

Seungkwan looked down with a blush, with a lovely pink dusting his high cheekbones and adorable crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.

“Well, okay, but my song is more serious, so the lyrics have to, you know, mean something,” he mumbled. Hansol rested his hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder in a solid but comforting grip.

“They will, but we can still move the words around however we want. That’s literally what composition is, you know. Just the way you choose to arrange the ingredients. Sometimes things that don’t seem to fit well together can have the strongest impact. It can be really powerful to catch the audience off-guard, to give them something unexpected.”

He gave Seungkwan’s shoulder another squeeze and dropped his hand. Seungkwan looked a little more cheerful.

“I guess some surprises can be good.”

“Exactly,” Hansol replied. Looking into Seungkwan’s soft eyes, he had never been more thankful for the surprises in his life.


End file.
